Fixing the Future
by The Cowgirl Bookworm
Summary: A new view of death stalks the streets of Miami. Instead of grisly scenes, the killer poses his victims like works of art. Horatio Caine works to unravel the mystery behind these killings before Spring Break brings the killer more models to use in his work. Laila Collins takes on a job that she is personally repulsed by, but will she manage it and her life with Horatio? 3rd series
1. Chapter 1

Spring had descended on Miami like a Carnival in Rio. Flowers suddenly bloomed, people wore bright colors, and there was an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation for the approaching Spring Break. Business would get more customers, hotels would be full. Over sexed co-eds would flock the streets and fill the bars. Ornithologists would compare it to a migration, complete with mating dance, rituals, and the eventual abandonment for old, familiar environments. Miami would take weeks to clean, but being glutted with cash made for an easy wait. After Spring Break had ended it would only be a few months till summer and cruise season. From there, fall would progress and more tourists would arrive to the entertainment capital of Florida.

And it was Horatio Caine's job to keep them safe.

To most, he wouldn't have cut an imposing figure. A tall slender red head with a penchant for high end suits and an ever present pair of sunglasses, the Lieutenant was never one to intimidate. At first glance at least. But behind those darkened shades and deep blue eyes, lurked a cunning and protective mind. A necessity for any crime scene investigator. Horatio was a man that had witnessed the evils of mankind, and come out stronger. He was currently leaning against a Police Department Hummer, awaiting the rest of his team. They came trickling in, all waiting in the parking lot of Mel's Mermaid Lagoon.

There was blonde Calleigh Duquense, who could be as sweet as Southern iced tea, yet tell you exactly how fast a bullet was traveling when it entered a man's skull and what caliber it was just from a two second look. Behind her came Alexx Woods, their Medical Examiner. Her black hair pulled back into a high ponytail, soft brown skin covered hands that had been in more bodies than Horatio could remember.

Ryan Wolfe was next, a young patrol officer that Horatio had pulled off of the beat to come be a CSI. The young man was doing his best to emulate his boss, wearing the stylish suits that Horatio favored. Walking alongside him, scuba gear in hand, was Eric Delkotorsky, better known as Delko. The Cuban-Russian diver was the resident ladies man, aside from their vehicular expert. Bringing in the rear was Natalia Boa Vista, their newest member. While still learning the ropes, Natalia could do just about anything with biologicals.

His team was skilled in what they did, and he had picked them for just that reason. Every one of them knew that their job was to find justice for the victim. Their job was to give closure to loved ones, to find the cruel and merciless people who would take lives. They did that through science, through a thorough knowledge of the world around them and how it worked. They were analytical, tough, relentless.

And they were good at what they did.

"Horatio. I've got three for ya." Horatio snapped his eyes away from the team to Detective Frank Tripp. A balding Texan, he had settled in Miami to take care of an ailing mother had decided to call the place home. Horatio considered Frank to be his first wave, he'd go in, learn what he could, then report back. It also helped that the Texan was intimidating as hell. "You won't believe it."

"Frank, I think I will." Horatio smirked at his friend as he turned to look at the building. The parking lot led to a gated area, plexiglass walls riding about four feet in the air to form a circle. A set of stairs led below, and Frank gestured for him to follow. He quickly moved down the stairs, into a dining room of sorts. Horatio knew the Lagoon put on mermaid shows, almost a sort of underwater ballet, offering their customers dinner and a show. He remembered a little bit of trivia, that underwater photo shoots had been done here as well. Chairs had been stacked on tables, but Horatio didn't need them. He wasn't concerned with sitting down, but with the three young women floating in the water before him.

"Mermaids?" He muttered, looking at the women in the lagoon. The closest to him possessed a mane of fiery red hair, not unlike his own, that floated around her, stirring in the currents. Her only clothing was a bikini top, shells glued to it to make it look more natural. Her milky white skin tapered to the beginning of her waist, where a pattern of red, orange, and gold scales began. They flowed from her waist and wrapped around where her legs should have been before slimming down to a large, feathery, orange fin. She had been posed in a way that made her look like she was swimming, arms and tail posed.

"Right?" Frank grunted from behind him. Horatio's head turned as Ryan, Calleigh, and Natalia came down the stairs.

"Where's Eric?" He asked, looking up at the group.

"He'd getting ready to dive." Calleigh told him, before pulling out a pair of latex gloves.

"I want pictures from every angle before the bodies are removed." Horatio told them, sending Natalia back up to tell Eric. He moved to the second body as Calleigh and Ryan both picked up cameras to photograph the women. The second mermaid was a young African-American girl, her tail a spiral of green that floated above the rock she was seated on. Her fingers combed through the mass of hair that danced around her, occasionally brushing the seaweed that had been wrapped around her breast and her neck. He slid his eyes over to the third one. A milky white veil of hair concealed her face, but her blue tail met with a pale body. Occasionally her hair would drift, revealing a pale breast that would vanish behind the hair. She was posed with her arms over her head, almost vertical in the water. The artificial reef behind her provided a backdrop, bright colors visible through the water.

It was beautiful, in an eerie and unsettling sort of way. It made Horatio want to stand and consider the women like they were a work of art. Ryan apparently felt the same, he'd take a picture and then stand back to examine them. Calleigh would do the same, awed by what she saw. Horatio saw a sudden patch of black appear in the water, forming into a recognizable shape as it got closer. Eric, clad in a wet suit and an air tank on his back, swam around the bodies, an underwater camera taking pictures. Satisfied that everything was being handled he turned to examine the room. With black tile and white walls, the room was a stark contrast to the variety of life in the lagoon. He moved from table to table, examining each for any sign of activity. His patience was rewarded when he found a piece of paper tucked under the edge of a chair. He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and gently removed the paper.

"What do you have?" Calleigh asked, standing beside him. "Looks like poetry." A few lines of poetry had been scratched out in a practiced calligraphy, and Horatio knew they were not written by some ballpoint pen, the writing was too slanted and well shaped. _This writing would take practice to form, repeating letters endlessly to make it perfect._

"I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves  
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back  
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea  
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown  
Till human voices wake us, and we drown."

Horatio read off the poem slowly, glancing to the lagoon. Eric was in the process of removing the bodies, a pair of scissors cutting something he couldn't see and the red head slowly floating up. Calleigh took the poem from him and read through it on her own.

"Well that's creepy." She muttered, "Mermaids, drowning. Think our killer left it for us?"

"Hmm." Horatio hummed, considering the situation. "You know how people pose models and dress them up to make them look like a picture?"

"Yeah, a tableau vivant. It means a living picture."

"Well, we have a tableau décès."

* * *

Laila Collins shifted her stance, mentally berating herself for setting up this meeting. She should have known better, but the money was alluring. She had worked with several companies for the upcoming Spring Break, but she hadn't considered this. And then they had called her, asking her to meet at a Japanese restaurant for lunch. She had arrived first, had ordered some edamame, and had amused herself with the salted soybeans until they arrived.

And who were they? The board of the Miss Spring Break competition. The board which included her oh-so perfect cousin AshLee Fontaine. She snapped open a soybean pod and crushed a few beans between her teeth. _They should have been here fifteen minutes ago. _A waitress made her way though the tables, leading a group of well dressed women. All wore sundresses, their hair up, and carried themselves with an air that only came from money and prestige being given from birth. It took an effort to not be ashamed her charcoal slacks and blazer. Her pearl necklace was fake, while the pearls that graced several members of the board neck's were real.

"Why Cousin Laila it has been way too long!" A perfectly feminine Southern voice rang out. A blonde in a baby blue dress stepped out from behind two of the board members. AshLee was perfect in a way that Laila could never see herself being. Her perfect blonde hair had been curled and secured with bobby pins that actually managed to hide themselves amongst her tresses. Her bright blue eyes were covered by thickly fringed lashes, and her makeup was perfect. She filled out the bodice of her dress while Laila had to content herself with minimal goods in the feminine department. The only thing Laila had on her cousin was her height. AshLee was petite, while Laila was lengthy. She tapped one foot, content that she would never have to learn how to balance on three inch heels like her cousin had to.

"Hello AshLee," Laila nodded. "Ladies, shall we." She gestured to the table, sending the five women to find their seats. A few plates of sushi that she had ordered earlier appeared, and Laila helped herself. She took a smug satisfaction in her chopstick ability as AshLee scooped a piece onto a fork.

"Well, if I may start Ms. Collins we are so glad to be able to meet with you." One of the older women said. "I'm Maybelle Jackson, and this is Brandi, Jennifer, and Rebecca. You already know AshLee of course." Maybelle tittered slightly. Laila had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

"It's a pleasure." Laila said, sipping a small cup of sake. She noticed the other women had ordered tea or water, she was the only one with a drink. _Well, I'll need a drink to get through this. _"But shall we move on to the business? I have a few other clients on my plate already."

"Oh, of course. Now, what were asking is for you to oversee the Miss Spring Break pageants from beginning to end. The contestants are already entered but we need you expertise to help us inform the woefully misguided public." AshLee simpered. "And were willing to pay handsomely."

"Exactly what does your pageant cover?" Laila asked, raising her eyebrows. "Age range, competitions? If we can advertise to a specific interest group it's much better."

"Well, we have a teen division, a miss division, and our Spring Flowers division."

"Spring flower?"

"Children up to thirteen." AshLee explained. Laila took a gulp of sake at that. _Child beauty pageant, Jesu Christo. And AshLee to boot. God I wish I wasn't here._ She finished a couple of pieces of sushi before responding.

"Well, Maybelle, I will consider your offer." Laila said. "But for now, let's enjoy some food." Lunch passed in a relatively peaceful manner, and Laila successfully fended off AshLee's multiple attempts to get her to agree. When she stood to leave, Maybelle gave her a business card with a request to call them in the next few days. As a second thought she pulled out a Miss Spring Break handbook for Laila to leaf through. AshLee stood to walk out with her, her heels clacking as she followed Laila.

"Now, Laila I really hope we've put all that nastiness behind us." AshLee whined when they reached the parking lot. "You know Grandma Elise always put Gentry first." Laila narrowed her eyes at that. Gentry, Georgia, was where her mother was from. Elise had practically disowned her mother when Denice had run off with her father, Jeff Collins. No inheritance, no standing in Southern society, and Laila was basically considered a bastard to the rest of the family. Going to the annual family reunion had ceased when she was ten, after a huge fight between Denice and Elise. The next day they had flown back to Des Moines. It was obvious who the Fontaine family preferred to carry on the family legacy.

AshLee was the perfect little granddaughter. She married her high school sweetheart just as he graduated from college with a law degree. Jerome Bramlett III was one of the top attorneys in Atlanta, and AshLee was queen of the social scene. Laila personally thought that everything seemed a little to perfect in her life, that there had to be some dark secret hiding. She glanced out of the side of her eye at her cousin. "Yes, I know that. But you think Aunt Lisa might want to defend her sister."

"Now don't you make this about Lisa!" AshLee snapped. "Your mother was the one who ran off. My mother would never dream of doing anything like that!" _Your mother also didn't do anything when it came out that your father was seeing a man on the side. There's nothing more awkward than sitting around a dining room table with your mother, father, and his boyfriend._

"You know what AshLee," Laila huffed. "I'm going. Tell Maybelle I'll call when I decide." Leaving her flustered cousin standing there, she got into her Mustang and drove off. _I needed some serious girl time_. She called up Sheri and asked if they could meet for coffee. Shortly she pulled up outside a Starbucks and was relieved to see Sheri's black haired head waiting for her. Sheri always dyed her hair a different color, for now it was black with aqua stripes. Sheri waved at her as she walked over.

"You would not believe the lunch I just had." Laila said as she sat down. She momentarily thought about getting a coffee, but decided she didn't really want anything but her friend's advice.

"Well, make it quick. I've got ten minutes before my break is over." Sheri laughed. Laila explained what had happened, Sheri nodding. "So, is it your cousin or the beauty pageant you're against? And isn't this the beauty pageant with the wet T-shirt contest?"

"Both. And yes. But only in their teen and miss divisions. Apparently it's worth extra points. But my cousin, I swear." Laila let her head drop back. "I mean, the last time I saw AshLee she shoved a snow-cone down my shirt and told me I'd always be flat as a board. Now she wants to be all goody-goody and simpering sweet. It makes me want to smack that smug little smile off her thirty-thousand dollar face."

"That's good. You hold all the power now." Sheri smiled. "I say take it. Take it, run with it, and show her how you're so much better than her now. I mean, what's she got that you don't have?" Sheri smirked. "Besides her D cups."

"Perfect husband, perfect two kids, house with a white picket fence. Enough money to buy anything she wants. Houses in Georgia, and a place over on Star Island. I mean, you name it she's got it. She had the perfect life."

"So? I bet her husband's bland as white bread. I wouldn't be surprised if her kids were into some nasty shit." Sheri's comment drew a couple looks from other customers. "Their neighbors are probably waiting for the South to rise again. And she lives in frickin' Georgia. That's punishment enough." Laila had to giggle a little at that.

"Alright, alright. Now I actually feel bad for her." Laila smiled. "How about this, I'll decide tomorrow."

"Good, and you'd better call me. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a portfolio due by two. Say hi to your boy toy for me." Sheri stood up, and Laila gave her a hug before both women went back to their cars. With her friend off to work, Laila figured that she should probably do hers as well. After all, the ads for Matador Tequila weren't going to review themselves. As she drove back to her apartment, she considered all the she and Sheri had been through. When Laila had hired on at her last job, Sheri had been one of the graphic designers. The two women had quickly become friends and hung out together outside of work whenever they could. Laila smiled when she thought of the last girl's night they had enjoyed. Sheri had convinced her to out to a bar, and then she had found some lifeguard who took her to a party while Laila was left alone. Not that she minded, after Sheri had left a large party had come in.

That was when she had met Horatio.

Years ago Horatio had been the lead detective when her friend Maria had been stabbed to death. He had been kind, had comforted her, and she had felt a connection to him. Just when she was summoning the courage to ask him on a date he had vanished. The police department told her he had transferred to New York. But then he had reappeared, head of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. After a rather tumultuous beginning, their relationship had settled into one of care, comfort, and love. She hadn't been happier since. Horatio was amazing, kind and loving. While dating a police officer did come with some downsides, guards, late nights, worrying, she wouldn't have given their relationship up for anything.

Now instead of eating in front of the TV, alone, she could sit down and talk to him. They could discuss his work, which he was always vague about. Not that she minded, she knew if anything major was happening he would give her more information than she could handle. Especially if it involved her. And she would tell him about hers, how she dealt with her persnickety clients while she oversaw their advertisements. They would eat together, and then they would sleep together.

She smiled at these thoughts as she rode the elevator up. Her apartment, her little piece of paradise, was on the twentieth floor. It meant a long ride up, and when the elevator was busted an even longer climb, but it also meant an unrivaled view of the ocean. She set her purse down, and gently ran her fingertips over the picture on the entry table. While Laila had never known Raymond Caine personally, she knew Horatio still missed his brother. It had become a little ritual for her to rub the frame when she came home, like rubbing a statue for good luck. It didn't matter that the younger Caine, brown haired where his brother was red headed, had never met her. He was important to Horatio, and she could easily understand why he wanted to keep family close.

She grabbed her laptop from its charger and began to examine the tequila advertisements with a critical eye.

* * *

AshLee Fontaine could not believe how 'Loner' Laila had just cut her. _Stupid bitch has too much of her damned father in her._ AshLee ground her teeth as she drove her Mercedes-Benz back to the mansion Jerome had bought her for a fifth anniversary present. Jerome was so kind, even if he was away a lot. He couldn't even come down to see her latest project.

It was all Denice's fault.

If she had just done what she was supposed to then none of this would have happened. Denice was supposed to marry Robert O'Heely, a doctor for Christ's sake! Robert had been going out with Denice for awhile, but they were on a break when Denice went to that pageant. And her stupid sister had fallen for a dirt poor farmer. Three weeks later she had flown to Iowa, leaving a scandal the size of Texas in Gentry.

And then she had brought her little brat to the family reunion. Laila had hid behind her father the whole time until the boys had suggested going to the river and seeing what they could fish out of it. She had wandered down there, as had AshLee and Jerome. AshLee's three other brothers had run ahead. Her brothers had dubbed Laila the 'Loner' since she didn't have any siblings. AshLee stayed with Jerome though/ They had already been together even when they were nine. Jerome had found a catfish and had chased it around until he managed to get it caught between a log. He was holding his flapping prize up when Laila asked him if he was going to eat it.

"No I'm not going to eat it, you stupid girl." Jerome had replied, watching as the fish tried to breathe.

"Then don't kill it!" Laila had yelled. "Let it go!" When it became apparent that Jerome was not going to listen to her she had run over, ignoring how the river water dirtied her dress and punched him. The catfish had flown back into the water, zipping away before it could be caught again. Jerome and Laila had gone down in a flurry of splashing water and fists. AshLee had screamed at them to stop, but it only stopped when Jerome had started crying. AshLee had run back and brought Jerome's mother, Lisa, and Denice to the river. Jeff had followed, unaware that the Southern rule was that the mother deals with the children while the father enjoys the party.

"She h-h-h-hit me!" Jerome sobbed, holding his stomach. He had suffered a nosebleed and a split lip.

"He was going to kill a fish!" Laila accused, rubbing at the scrape above her eye.

"Who cares about a stupid fish?" Jerome yelled.

"Grandpa Ron says you shouldn't kill anything you aren't going to eat!"

"Your Grandpa's name isn't Ron!"

"My other Grandpa! Grandpa Hubert doesn't fish, stupid!" At that point Jeff had stepped in, grabbing Laila's wrist. Her parents had taken her away, Jerome and his mother following them. AshLee had just looked at her mother.

"Did I do good?" She asked, looking at her clean dress.

"Yes, you did very good." Lisa had said. "You don't want to be like Laila."

"I don't like her. She hits."

"Exactly, she's not a lady. You are." Her mother had patted her head and taken her back to the party. Jerome was sulking in a corner, and Jeff was standing with Laila off to the side. Laila looked like she was explaining what had happened.

"Alright, now I understand." AshLee could just hear Jeff over the sound of other people talking. She inched forward. "But you can't solve everything by fighting, even if what you were fighting for was right."

"I tried though! I told him to put the fish down but he called me stupid. I didn't want the fish to die unless it was going to be dinner. Grandpa says that you shouldn't do that."

"And Grandpa is right."

"I know, I tried to tell him." Laila rubbed her nose. "I'm just happy the fish got away."

"Just avoid Jerome okay? We might be leaving early." Jeff told her, and AshLee watched as he picked her up and hugged her. Her own Dad didn't even do that, he would just mess up her hair and tell her to go play. AshLee couldn't quite remember what had happened later that night but she had heard about it later. Grandma Elise had told Denice that she wasn't raising her daughter right, and that she didn't know what she was even doing in her marriage. Denice had merely stayed silent and had flown home the next day. Laila and Jeff were gone, and AshLee was left with Jerome. Denice had only come back when Grandpa Hubert had died, bringing Laila with her.

The shy little tomboy had grown into an awkward nerd that she and Jerome loved to torture. When they saw Laila in the local convenience store she had shoved her slushie down her shirt and made fun of her for having small breasts. Just typical high school fun. Laila had run out crying, wiping tears out from underneath her glasses. She and Jerome had gotten a chocolate bar and had told all their friends about her. How she had a face like a pizza, those ugly brown eyes, her freakish legs. Laila had avoided them religiously after that, always reading some bulky fantasy book. She was the social outcast, the lowest of the low.

And now she was acting like she was so important. AshLee quickly dialed Maybelle's number on her cell.

"Hello AshLee!" Maybelle's voice was happy, and AshLee had to roll her eyes.

"Hi Maybelle, listen are we really sure we want Laila to be doing this? I mean, did you see her today? She didn't even wear a dress. Laila is completely unsuitable for the pageant, she would just drag it through the mud."

"AshLee, I know you have your differences, but she comes highly recommended. You know the pageant is on its last legs, we need to reinvent it. Otherwise a tradition of fifty years will die in our hands!" AshLee merely said goodbye and hung up. If there was one thing Southern society would never let go of, it was tradition.

* * *

**AN: And we now have our third part of the series! I want to welcome all of my returning readers and all newcomers! I hope you enjoy my story and will leave your reviews to let me know if you do!**


	2. Chapter 2

Horatio left the underground restaurant, slipping on his sunglasses as he stepped outside. Two of the mermaids had been laid out on the ground by the lagoon, Delko rising to the surface with the last one in his arms. Alexx was already leaning over them, murmuring condolences to the bodies. Horatio made his way over, kneeling by them. Alexx's long fingers had smoothed their hair out of their faces, letting their sightless eyes gaze upwards. Horatio glanced down the redheads body, his eyes widening slightly.

"Alexx, is that-"

"Sewn on? Yes." The medical examiner finished for him. A rough line of stitches had secured the body to to the mermaid tail. White thread dipped through whiter skin and flashing fabric, emerging a light pink after passing through the flesh. Alexx placed a finger on one of the stitches. "Antemortem, not much bleeding. But Horatio, I haven't seen anything like this before. Why would he sew them on?"

"Because he was setting a scene," Horatio mused before turning away. Two officers were pulling the last mermaid from the water, the woman's white blonde hair dragging on the ground and under her blue tail. Eric floated there, his mask pulled off so he could monitor their progress. An officer came forward with a clear plastic bag, holding it open while Eric slipped something into it. Horatio cocked his head slightly. It looked like clear plastic strands, a whole bunch of them.

"Fishing line. He tied it around their hands and legs, then anchored it to some of the rocks." Eric said, swimming over to the edge of the lagoon. Horatio offered him a hand up, his hand slipping slightly on the slick rubber of Eric's wetsuit. Eric sat on the deck, pulling off his flippers. A couple of officers lifted the blonde, one carrying her shoulders and one the tail. They laid her out next to the others, then retreated for Alexx.

"Poor baby, just out for a swim." Alexx said, placing her hands on the blonde's chest. She applied gentle pressure, which lead to foam coming from the blonde's mouth. She wrinkled her nose, pulling her hands off the body. "Same as the others. She drowned." Alexx shook her head as she stood, directing her orderlies to get the extra large body bags to accommodate the tails.

"Till human voices wake us, and we drown." Horatio mused, turning to look at the people gathered around. There wasn't any media, only a few men and women standing back behind the police tape. One older man was standing inside though, speaking to an officer that was diligently taking notes. Horatio walked over, dismissing the officer with a casual wave of his hand. The officer did hand him his notepad though, he quickly glanced at it.

"Mr. Bronstein," He held out his hand. "Lieutenant Horatio Caine."

"Call me Mel." The other man shook his hand roughly. He had the darkly tanned skin of a Florida resident, green eyes peeking out. "How long you guys gonna need the pool? If my girls can go home today I'll let 'em, but if not they got to get in some practice."

"Was that what they were doing?" Horatio gestured to the three bodies being wheeled away. Alexx hopped in her van, driving the mermaids away. Mel watched them leave, and Horatio could see his eyes water.

"Yeah," Mel's voice was uneven, emotional. "Grace and Quinn were practicing with Katya when I was going to close up. They begged for a little more time, Katya promising to lock up when I left. When I got here, everything seemed fine. The place was locked up, the filters were running. It was only when I walked down to check the dining room that I saw them." Mel paused for a moment, trying to get his voice under control. "Why? They were some of my best, and now I'm going to have to call Katya's family over in Moscow and tell them she won't be coming back. That'll she'll come back on a cargo jet."

"Mel, I can't tell you why right now. But I will be able to, soon." Horatio pulled his sunglasses off, looking the man in the eye. "Now do you have security cameras, anything that could help us identify the person who did this?"

"Yeah, I've got a system all around the pool. Can't have some wackjob jumping in there during a show." Mel snorted. "Not that it helped them."

"Mel, take CSI Wolfe here and get the tapes." Horatio gestured to Ryan who had just emerged from the dining room. Mel waved Ryan over, taking him to a low lying building off to the side of the lagoon. Eric, free of his wetsuit, walked over. Horatio glanced over. "Delko, check the filtration system. Our killer may have left something of his behind." Eric nodded and went to a low lying building along the side of the lagoon. With that settled, Horatio turned towards the lagoon. From here, it looked peaceful. He bit the inside of a lip, mind unwilling to accept the peaceful veneer. Three women had died, killed by a man that had no mercy.

"Horatio." Frank drew his attention away. The bulky Texan stood there, sweating in the heat.

"Yeah Frank?"

"Vic's husband is here." Frank glanced over his shoulder at a man arguing with an officer over the tape. "Padraig Thompson. Getting pretty steamed over there. Won't let us get a word in edgewise." Horatio didn't respond but inserted himself between Padraig and the officer.

"Where's Grace?" His voice was angry, his Irish accent bringing up all to painful reminders for Horatio. "Where's my wife? I need to see my wife!" Horatio opened his mouth to reply but the man went off on a tirade. "Grace! I know you can hear me! Get over here you bitch!"

"Grace is dead." Horatio stated it simply. If the man had wanted it broken to him gently, he wouldn't have acted like this. He watched as emotions flitted across Padraig's face. Disbelief, suspicion, and strangely anger. As if he was annoyed by the fact that his wife had died without his permission. All of this passed in seconds, before he assumed the role of grieving husband. Horatio had seen that series of emotion all to often.

"Are you sure it's her?"

"She was identified, yes." Horatio blinked behind his sunglasses. "Now I need you to tell this officer everything you know. About Grace, the lagoon, everything." Horatio waved the uniformed officer back over, then went to where Delko was. The building seemed to house nothing but pipes. Pipes running up from underground, in a tangle over their heads, plastering the walls. He threaded his way between them, finding Eric standing over a clear plastic box. "What do we have?"

"Well, the filtration runs a lot like a pool's would." Eric said, plunging his arm into the box. "Drains gather the water, bring it through here where it's filtered and sent back in. They get a lot of rocks here though, and, wait just a minute." Delko shifted his arm around a little, fingers scrabbling at something under the gravel. He pulled what he had found out, shaking it off. Whatever it was was clear, oblong in shape, and small. Horatio narrowed his gaze, squinting at the object when Eric held it out. "Piece of a pair of swimming goggles."

"Eric, take a look through it."

Delko held it up to his eye. "It's distorted."

"It's a perscription lens. Which means we can track it." Horatio left Eric grinning, bagging the lens. He stepped out into the sun, setting his sunglasses over his eyes against the bright Miami sun.

* * *

AshLee walked through her mansion, feeling a little lonely despite the fact that she was used to being alone. Her children had all grown, and they were perfectly fine to stay at home for a few weeks on their own. Jerome would be home on the weekends, making sure that the bills got paid. He always kept tabs on everything at home, even though he practically lived in Atlanta. The only other person who was around here was Consuela, the maid who only came around every couple of days. Since she hadn't been to the house in a few months, Consuela had saved the entertainment sections of the newspapers for her.

It was a thing she liked to do, sit down and catch up on all the going-ons at once. She had just shifted the pile over to a coffee table when one of them slipped out to flap loudly to the floor. With a huff she bent down to pick it up. She blinked, then pulled the picture closer to her. Sure enough, there was Laila. She was wearing a pearl necklace that didn't quite go with the sparkly green dress she was wearing. Gold would have gone so much better. _But of course, she can't afford real gold. Not like I can. Hell, tiffany's would lend me a gold and emerald necklace if I asked them to. And she can't get that._ But what intrigued her more was the man she was dancing with.

He was tall, red haired, and she could make out two blue eyes. The photographer had caught them as he swung her around, her cousin's mouth open wide in a silent laugh. Frankly, she looked happy. This guy looked happy, and AshLee felt a little pang. It had been a long time since Jerome had looked at her like that. But who was he? It had been no secret in the family that Laila wouldn't find some successful Southern man to settle down with. She took the paper with her, trying to find Consuela. If he was at a club opening, and had a picture, albeit one with no caption, he might be some minor celebrity.

"Consuela, there you are. Do you recognize this man?" AshLee asked, noting the heavyset Latina woman scrubbing the marble floor. Consuela looked up, her eyes squinting at the picture.

"_Si_. He's on the news a lot. Some police man." Consuela nodded, then went back to cleaning the floor. Her suspicions confirmed AshLee went to the office, pulling up the local news websites. She then went though all the police posts she could find, finally figuring out who the man Laila was dancing with was. Horatio Caine, a police Lieutenant. Oh wasn't that just perfect. She was dating a government employee, which automatically meant he didn't make much. He probably wasn't going to come in to much money either. Not like jerome. Jerome's father would leave a large amount of money behind for him, Jerome was only working in law so that he could have a legal background when he ran for Congress and hopefully, President. She glanced through the articles she had found, noting how often this Lieutenant Caine showed up for arresting some celebrity or drug dealer. She wrinkled her nose, that Dr. Ibrim had perfected for her. Didn't the man know to stay out of celebrities' lives? There were far more important than him, they had people concerned about their lives. They were people of power, people of importance. Who was he? Some little rat stirring up trouble in their perfect lives. She pulled out her cell, desperate to tell Jerome.

"Hey babe. Listen I can only talk for a couple minutes." Jerome sounded hurried.

"So you know Laila? She's dating a police officer. Is that desperate or what?"

"Wow, she's desperate." Jerome was always good for a bit of gossip. "Honey, I've got to go. I'm defending this oil company and these hippie nutjobs are suing for a little oil leak."

"Jer-jer, I thought you were coming down here."

"I know baby, but this is a big one. Just have fun down there, get all tan, and I'll be there in a week and just rip you to shreds."

"Easy big boy. Save that for the courtroom." She purred, smiling even as Jerome hung up.

* * *

Laila floated underwater, feeling the gentle tug and pull of the ocean around her. It would pull her out slightly, then roll her back in. It relaxed her, a constant motion that would continue long after she had gone. She shook those thought out of her mind, flitting back up to the surface for another deep breath. She wasn't too far out, the sand shelf didn't drop off for awhile. She dove down, looking at the gentle beige of the sand. The water got cooler as she went down, a slight shiver going down her spine. Cold, she returned to the surface, letting the waves roll her back to shore. She collected her towel, checked to make sure her apartment key was still tucked inside, and left the beach. Her sandals weren't much good for running, but they did keep her feet off the hot pavement.

Her apartment building wasn't hard to find, and as she walked through the parking lot she had to smile at the large, silver Hummer taking up a space. She looked up at the sky, trying to figure out what time it was. She had been out longer than she had expected, and hopefully he wasn't worried. Horatio did have a tendency to get concerned when she wasn't where he expected her. When she walked in though, he was seated in one of their chairs, reading. He looked over when she walked in, and she felt her heart swell. His eyes, those blue eyes could reveal such kindness, such concern, so many emotions that swirled around them.

"Horatio, I was surprised you hadn't sent out a search team." She smiled, teasing him gently.

He smirked. "When I saw your suit was gone, I figured you were at the beach." He stood up, coming over to embrace her. She returned it, trying to keep his suit from getting wet. He went over to the kitchen, returning with two wine glasses. He handed one to her, and she sipped the red wine thoughtfully.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" She asked, wrapping her towel around her waist so she didn't get the couch wet.

"Several times, just today." Horatio replied. Laila smiled at him, then downed the rest of her wine. "Rough day?"

"You have no idea." She quickly explained what had happened that afternoon to him.

"Is your family always like this?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Laila laughed slightly, "All rather concerned with their social standing."

"At least you have them." Horatio said, his voice pitched low. Laila reached over and squeezed his hand, smiling at him. Horatio had an even crazier family life than she had, at least in her family drugs and murder didn't play a part.

"Speaking of family, have you heard from Kyle lately?" She asked. Kyle Harmon, Horatio's son, had been recently released from the Miami-Dade Detention Center. He had chosen to live with his mother over Horatio, and Laila knew that it weighed heavily on his shoulders. The one time she had met Kyle, he had struck her as an alright kid. Sure he had made a few mistakes along the way, but who had all the answers when they were sixteen?

"He called a few days ago. He wanted to know if we could have dinner sometime." Horatio smiled slightly. "All three of us."

"Really?" She asked, confirmed by his nod. "That sounds," She gave Horatio's hand another squeeze. "It sounds nice." He returned her pressure, a silent confirmation to her. That was how it was between them. Their love wasn't over the top, it wasn't the kind that required large amounts of affection. It was a relationship that had been built on trust instead of wild passion. She thought it was better that way. Passion was unstable, it could flee as quickly as it came. Trust, it was stable. Even if the relationship broke apart, they would still trust each other.

_Not that it ever would._

She loved him. It didn't matter that he had a child from a previous relationship. Like all things in Horatio's life, it had been hard and rather messy. But she did her best be there for him, to support him and love him. He was all she could have wanted. Kind, considerate, and fairly protective. Even though his protectiveness drove her out of her mind sometimes, she wouldn't give him up just because of that. He meant to much to her.


	3. Chapter 3

"AshLee, I can't put ads out like this!" Laila snapped at her phone where she had her cousin on speakerphone. "Seriously? An eight year old in a bikini giving a sexy wink? Are you fucking kidding me?" That morning she had called Maybelle, accepting the job. The pageant director had emailed her last years ads to take a look at, and she was currently chewing out her cousin for the horrible photos she had been recommending.

"Laila, there's no need for such language like that. Those are what we have from last year, they were fine then. What's wrong with them? They were successful, we had people lined up to come see the pageant." AshLee huffed, her irritation palpable even through the phone. Laila rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe that they're perverted? That some creepy pedophile is going to find these and add them to his porno collection? Did you ever think of that? Your pageant is practically a feeding ground for those guys. What kind of security do you have? Hardly any, right?" Considering what Horatio had told her about a few child molester cases he had worked, she figured her anger was justified. It was putting those kids out on a silver platter for those slimeballs. Out on a silver platter and in a spotlight. "This year, nothing like that. Get me the winner from last year in the woman's division."

"She's got a fitting up in Coral Gables."

"Give me the address."

"There's no need to be so rude."

"AshLee, it's not rudeness. This is my business, alright? You hired me, you let me do my job. Now, the address?" Laila quickly wrote down the address Ashlee told her, hanging up when she was finished. She dug out a tote, packed her laptop and everything she thought she would need to convince the woman to come to a photo shoot. _Not that it will take much. Girls like those are desperate for any bite at fame. _She slid into her Mustang, quickly headed for Coral Gables.

The home of lower-tier wealth, those who couldn't afford the mansions on Star, Palm, or Hibiscus Island, Coral Gables was beautiful. White, stucco buildings were shaded by palm trees. The red tiled roofs called to mind small towns in Spain. Flowers bloomed in profusions along the streets, their scent masking the smell of exhaust. It was beautiful, perfect and pristine. But Laila hated it. Everything was planned, from the houses to the plants. Anything that grew outside of its accorded space was pruned back into line. All it reminded her off was AshLee and her family. How everything had to be just so, because what was the desire of one girl against a family's name? Maybe that's why she loved Miami so much. It was full of oddballs, all chasing their dreams. Sure there were families who had done the same thing for generations, but it wasn't the whole city. Miami was like the night sky, and no one told the stars what they had to do, what order they had to go in.

Miami was free, no one cared if you wanted to go to clubs, sit on the beach, or spend your day in a library. It didn't matter if you were the cast off dregs of a wealthy Georgia family or a New York police transplant. In Miami, you could do what you wanted to. She drove past perfect houses, perfect lawns mowed by perfect husbands and overseen by perfect wives. It was all just to planned. Life needed that chaos, the madness that never came with order. Because the peace and happiness you could find in the madness meant so much more than ordered blandness. It was an emotion that cut to the quick of you, something so intense that you would hold onto it as long as you could. It was unlike the planned life that went on in Georgia. Even here there was that sense of having your life planned for you. Once you got used to ordered perfection you began to chase that feeling, that lost hope of finding the passion in chaos. And that would destroy your personal, perfect, life. Some people might find it, and be better off for it. But more often than not, it ended up destroying so many people that it almost didn't seem worth it. Until you felt that love, that passion, and then you understood why someone would give up a 'perfect' life.

For what was life if not chaos, a series of random events that could be cut short by another person. Trying to organize those events served no purpose. _I turned from it, and look how much better my life has gotten._ Laila smiled to herself as she pulled into the shopping center where the fitting was taking place. She brushed her hair behind her, letting it rest on the soft white material of her blouse. She walked into the store, immediately finding what she was looking for. A beautiful woman stood in a purple dress while three different seamstresses flitted around her. The dress glittered with rhinestones, picking out a pattern of flowers twining around her legs.

"Yona Williams?" She asked, stepping forward.

"Oh, Yona is my stage name. Call me Brittney." The woman turned around and smiled widely. Her features were fine, her nose small and refined. Her auburn curls brushed her shoulders, green eyes peeking out from under their bangs.

"Alright, Brittney." Laila drew a business card from her tote and handed it to her. Brittney took a look at it before letting it flutter to the floor. "My name is Laila, I am running the advertisement side of the pageant this year. And frankly, I've got nothing to go with. I need you to come to a photo-shoot for the new ads."

"Why would I do that? I can't compete anymore," Brittney turned around, examining herself in the mirror. "The only reason I'm getting this dress is so I can pass off the crown." She reached down, plumping her breasts up. "Is there any way to make these look bigger?"

"Well, we could scoop the neckline down a little more." One of the seamstresses said, glancing up.

"Listen, Brittney. Imagine you go to the photo-shoot. You save the pageant. And suddenly, everyone is calling for you, asking you to come model for their ads. They want you to show off their products, they want to pay you to do so. You could be famous." Laila launched into her pitch, gesturing with her hands.

"Does that happen?"

"Yes, I've seen it." _Not with my own eyes, but I've heard of it._

"I could be a model?"

"If you play your cards right."

"I'll do it."

* * *

Dr. Alexx Woods had seen some strange things laid out on her autopsy table. A body missing most of its parts, a shark filled with human flesh, but she had never had a mermaid, let alone three, laid out for her to work on. She touched the Bluetooth headset she had tucked into her ear, telling it to begin recording. "Patient is female, Caucasian. Name Grace Thompson. Beginning autopsy by removing fabric mermaid tail sewn onto victim." Alexx pulled a small pair of scissors from her tray of tools. She patiently snipped each little stitch, pulling the string out and placing it on another tray. Once all the stitches had been removed she placed them into a small evidence envelope. "Stitches have been removed to be sent to trace. Tail and bikini top will be sent to evidence." Alexx had just picked up the scalpel to begin the Y-incision when she heard the door of the autopsy theater open.

"Horatio." She smiled, noting how Horatio looked at the bodies arrayed along her table. He looked at them with sadness, but a sense of strength. He wouldn't stop until they had justice, and that was why she worked for him. He would never stop until justice had been found for the deceased.

"Alexx." He nodded, stepping up to Grace. "I need you to take UV pictures of her body."

"Looking for bruises?" Alexx asked, moving to find her camera.

"Just call it a hunch." Horatio watched as she lifted the camera, snapping pictures from her feet to the top of her head. Once she was finished she handed him the camera, looking away when he brought up the display. Just as he had thought. He noted a bruise that wrapped around her calves, likely where her attacker had grabbed her to drown her. But what disturbed him was the bruises that showed up around her stomach. Each of them was a blow, a blow that had shaken her until she had backed down from Padraig.

"Not so pretty, huh?" Alexx said, patting down Grace's hair. Such a shame when something like that happened, a tragedy really. She smiled softly at the thought of Grace spending time in the lagoon so she didn't a have to face her husband. Drawing her fingers through her hair, she felt something in it, something rough and hard. She took a pair of tweezers from her tray and extracted it. Horatio watched with interest. "A fingernail. Must have ripped off when he grabbed her."

"I'll get it to Natalia." Horatio smirked as Alexx slipped the ripped off nail into an envelope. She handed it to him, resuming her autopsy as he left. He climbed up from Alexx's theater, heading for the second floor where Natalia kept her DNA lab. Natalia was already working, loading her centrifuge with all the samples she had accrued in other cases. He knocked lightly on the glass as he stepped in.

"Horatio." She acknowledged, clamping down the top of the centrifuge. He held out the envelope.

"One more for you." He replied. Natalia shook the sample out onto a sheet of paper, scrutinizing it. She picked up a swab from her table, running it over a small section of the nail. Horatio watched, interested.

"Took some of the guy's skin with it, should be able to get a nice sample." She said, beginning the process of DNA extraction. "Let's just hope he's in CODIS." Horatio left her to her work, knowing how strange it was to work when someone was breathing down your neck. He stepped into his office, noting Eric and Calleigh walking along, discussing something. He smiled tightly, watching as the two turned a corner. With no bullets Calleigh didn't have much to do for this case, instead working on a few backlogs. Eric was supposed to be helping Ryan analyze the fishing line used to tie the victims down. _I'll give him a few more minutes._ He turned to his computer, typing up a couple reports before heading for the layout room. He opened the door, noting both Ryan and Eric in their lab coats. Behind them hung print outs of the photos from the lagoon, the light giving them an even eerier glow. He stared at them for a moment before looking at what Eric had. Delko was laying out braided lengths of fishing line, each of them roughly the same length. Ryan was laying out the tails, taking up whatever part of the table Delko wasn't.

"Mr. Wolfe, what do we have?" Horatio asked as he stepped in.

"These are made up of a spandex lycra combo, sewn together with a zipper on the side." Ryan lifted the side of it, showing him the tail. "The tail is actually a modified scuba flipper, small metal strips extending out to give it a better look."

"It'd probably be easier to swim in than my regular fins." Eric said, gesturing to the tail. "Both legs propelling together instead of separately, be easier to move and faster as well."

"Thinking of becoming a merman, Eric?" Ryan lifted an eyebrow, causing Horatio to smirk. The two boys hadn't always been friends, especially when Ryan had just started. But they had become good friends, a good team.

"Huh, no thanks. Being half-fish is a little dangerous right now." Delko responded, laughing slightly. He lifted a piece of the fishing line up, displaying how it had been braided over and over. "Polyethylene monofilament. It's plain commercial fishing line, braided over and over to increase its strength. You could get it at any bait store, and there are hundreds of those scattered around Miami."

"What about the note?" Horatio asked, looking at the wall where it hung. "The security tape?"

"Benton's running the tape through the computer, editing a version together. As for the paper, it's an excerpt from a T.S Eliot poem, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." Eric pulled a laptop over from a side table, displaying an online text of the poem. "Average guy, little emotionally troubled, finally ends up at the beach where we met out mermaids." _And their siren song beckons him, draws him towards the water. But he doesn't drown, they do. Held underwater until they can't fight the urge to breathe and the water rushes in, filling their lungs. Killed to become some sick, depraved, twisted form of art. He poses them, then leaves._

"Anything that might give us an indication of what caused him to do this?" Horatio glanced down at the screen.

"Being rejected by a woman? That's all I can come up with, it's been a long time since my last English class."

"Then gentlemen, it's time to go back to school."


	4. Chapter 4

Natalia made her way to Horatio's office, the printout from the fingernail in her hand. She opened the door, finding her boss patiently clicking on the computer screen and entering reports into the database. She extended the file. "Our guy was in CODIS, an Arthur Hunt. Arrested once for burglary, he got entered into the system when we matched a blood smear on a window to him."

Horatio considered the file for a moment. "Did you already ask Tripp to bring him in?"

"Yeah, he's sitting in an interview room right now."

"Good." Horatio smiled, pleased. Natalia was quickly learning the ins and outs of the lab. Plus, she had a good head on her shoulders. He collected Grace's file and made his way over to the room, nodding to the uniform standing in the back. Arthur Hunt was a rarity for Miami. Pale and dark haired, he blinked a set of ocher eyes at Horatio as he walked in. Horatio noted his body language, cringing and on the edge of his seat. Horatio had dealt with so many overconfident trust fund babies it was strange to see a man actually scared. _He could well be a killer though._

"Officer, um, why am I here?" Arthur's voice cracked noticeably on the last word, and he looked down in embarrassment.

Horatio sighed. "Do you recognize this woman?" He slid Grace's picture over to him, her flesh pale and wan against the backdrop of Alexx's autopsy table. Arthur's fingers hovered over the picture, tracing Grace's face.

"Grace, oh my God. Jesus Christ what happened?" Arthur whispered, gently touching the picture. "Baby, baby I told you to leave."

"She was drowned, last night at her work. And your fingernail was in her hair." Horatio leaned over. "Did it rip off when you were holding her underwater? Or maybe when you were posing her body?"

"I didn't kill her." Arthur's voice was so firm for a moment Horatio forgot how awkward the man was. "Grace and I, we were in love."

"She had a husband."

"Yeah, I know. She was running out of her house one day all bloody. I took her to my place to clean her up and we just started seeing each other. We were planning to leave today, to go to Paris. Your guys found me waiting at the airport." Arthur looked down. "Now I know why she was taking so long."

"And your fingernail?"

"We met up before her shift okay? It probably just ripped off in her hair." Arthur looked at his thumb, the nail ragged. "It was her husband, I know it was. He hated that she worked there, but she loved it. She loved the water and her friends." He smiled sadly. "She said they were like a school of fish, that they would all turn at the same time during the show. I saw them once, they were beautiful. And afterwards she sat on the rocks, singing. I stood there watching her for hours as everyone else got autographs. She asked me what I wanted, why I was there." Horatio watched as he rubbed his nose, sniffing loudly. "I said I loved her. And we planned to run to Paris, away from her husband." Arthur's head jerked up, his eyes alight with a passion Horatio recognized. "He beat her so badly she lost a baby once, did you know that? She told me he left her on the floor, bloody. You have to arrest him."

"Our investigation is into her murder." Horatio spoke slowly, knowing that Padraig couldn't be arrested for this right now.

"So he just walks away?" Arthur stood up, causing Horatio to jerk back.

"For now."

* * *

"Alright, now zoom in on her face. Sweetie, lift your hand up like you're holding an apple." Sheri directed from the sidelines, as the photographer did as she asked. Brittney stood there, awkwardly posing. "No, no. Relax. Breathe, in fact close your eyes. You're on a beach, the waves are rolling in and out. Now, slowly open your eyes." The camera went off as Brittney languorously opened her eyes. Laila looked at the photo as it appeared on her laptop. It was sultry, seductive. A dozen more pictures surrounded it, evidence of the rest of the photo shoot. With a few simple clicks Laila imposed the Miss Spring Break logo above her palm, the date, time and place written below.

"Sheri, take a look." She called, bringing the black haired boss over. Sheri considered her work for a moment.

"Make it black and white, classier." She ordered. Laila applied the filter, pleased with the result. Laila watched as Sheri ordered Brittney to change into her bathing suit, sending her scurrying to the bathroom. The studio they were at belonged to a friend of Sheri's, who was quite willing to work them in for the proper compensation. Sheri turned around. "Go get in your bathing suit, you've got five minutes." Brittney nodded, shuffling away in her evening wear.

"Can't believe I'm doing this." Laila muttered, swiping through the evening wear pictures.

"Well she's a royal pain the ass." Sheri growled as she sat down next to her. "You're lucky I'm such a good friend."

"Yeah, well I'm lucky you've got a photo hookup." Laila gestured to the photographer, who was currently adjusting some of the flash lamps.

"I'm breaking up with him soon, guy's to clingy." Sheri said, sipping a water bottle. Laila shook her head, instead leaning back and contemplating the ceiling tiles. Sheri had always been flighty, but Laila was sure she would find the right guy. Since she had known her Laila figured Sheri had been through about twenty guys. Not that she was mean, she was just picky.

"And the next one will be to distant." She replied, looking at the blue in Sheri's hair.

"Hey, you're my girlfriend. You're supposed to talk shit about my exes, drink with me when I get broken up with, not make fun of me, and you haven't done any of that lately." Sheri rubbed her temple, unwilling to meet Laila's eyes.

"Well, I've just been busy and you know how that gets."

"Busy what? Hanging out with your amazing boyfriend?"

_Damn. _"Shit Sheri. It's not like I've actively tried to avoid you. You're my friend, and I guess I just haven't been a very good friend lately."

"It's alright." Sheri mumbled, punching her shoulder lightly. "But we're going out tonight. And no complaining."

"Aye aye."

* * *

Horatio stood among the many screens of their audio visual lab, contemplating the edited together video of the murder that Benton had left out for him. The beginning was rather normal, the girls bringing out their tails and sitting down to pull them on. Katya went in first, her fin flicking as it entered the water. The angle switched, showing a dark shadow in the water that followed her as she dove deeper. He paused the video, squinting at the figure. Benton must not have been able to find an angle where you could see him enter. There was a sudden rush of bubbles, then the surface of the lagoon was still as usual. Grace and Quinn dove in after. A minute later Quinn's head broke the surface, Grace after. Quinn gestured for Grace to get away as the killer pulled her back under. Grace darted away, toward the edge of the lagoon. She clawed at the decking, pulling herself out slowly. The tail was weighing her down. The angle switched, showing a hand shoot out and grab the tail, pulling her back. The camera switched again, the time stamp showing two hours later.

The killer emerged, his fins slapping against the floor. The guy was smooth, he didn't remove his mask and kept his head down. Still, Horatio caught a few things. The guy was large, easily topping six feet. He walked with a slight limp, hitching his left leg. The diver disappeared out of view, the tape shutting off as well. Horatio stood there, considering what he had seen. The guy was quick, taking down three girls inside of fifteen minutes. What he took awhile on was the posing. _He thinks he's an artist, that his art is the most important thing._

"H, did you get anything off the tape?" Eric asked, opening the door.

"Our guy didn't show his face, but that doesn't mean we're out of options." Horatio told him, glancing down at the file in Eric's hand. "Results of the goggle lens?"

"Yeah, there were a few people with the same prescription but look at this guy." Eric opened the file. "Jonathan Winters, pool boy at Mel's Mermaid Lagoon. Want to head over?" Horatio merely raised his eyebrows at Eric, gesturing for him to follow.

* * *

**AN: Ugh, sorry for the wait and the fact that this is short. I'm facing some writer's block, schoolwork and well, Game of Thrones is back on in like a month. My pre-gaming for that is reading all the books again so I've been a little short on my CSI: Miami. Don't worry about me abandoning the story, I don't think I'd do that. But it may take longer for less and that seriously bothers me. Sorry.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr. Winters, you've got quite the eyesight." Horatio mused, looking at the man in front of him. Johnathan Winters still had a boyish look to him, smooth skin and eyes the color of a clear day. But those eyes were hidden behind a thick set of glasses held in a thick black frame. He was holding the instrument of his trade, a long pole with a net attached to the end. When Horatio and Eric had arrived he had been skimming the pool, occasionally moving for a mermaid that came up to take a breath. Curious faces still floated beneath the water, rarely breaking through the surface to catch a quick listen.

"Yeah, without these I'd be blind as a bat." Winter gently touched his glasses. "My parents say I can get contacts after I work here for a few months. I just have to pay for them." Johnathan shrugged his shoulders at that. "But I'd rather be blind than keep wearing these."

"Mr. Winters do you recognize this?" Eric showed him the evidence bag. "It was found in the filter after the murders. Our records have matched the lens to a pair of goggles you own."

"Yeah I own 'em." Johnathan reached the net out to capture a wayward leaf. "I have to go down a clean the glass sometimes, but they busted a couple weeks ago. I had dropped them off at a place to fix them and they called last week saying they had been stolen. I hadn't thought to see them again."

"Where exactly did you drop them off?" Horatio asked, narrowing his eyes.

"The eyeglass store over on Flagler." Winters replied. Horatio and Eric thanked him, then drove over to the store. The manager confirmed Winters' story. They had suffered a robbery about a week ago, losing a thousand dollars and several pairs of glasses. They arrived back at the lab with less leads than when they set out. Winters was out, there was no way he could have killed those three women. Plus he was too small to fit the video of the killer.

"Horatio." Frank called him over as he walked back in.

"Frank."

"I've got a friend here for ya. Padraig Thompson came in here, asking after his wife's body. He was told that the body couldn't be released until Alexx had completed all her tests and then he just went crazy. Roughed up a few uniforms and is currently cooling his heels in a holding cell." Frank shrugged. "Thought you might want to talk to him." Horatio nodded his thanks and made his way to the holding cells. Used mainly for drunks, the cells were small, holding only a bunk and a toilet. A few partiers were still sleeping their night off, but only one cell contained an Irishman berating anyone near him.

"You fuckin' sons of bitches! Let me out!" Padraig yelled, causing Horatio to smirk as he stepped up to the bars of the cell. "What the Hell so you want? Why the Hell am I in here? Wipe that stupid fuckin' smile off yer face."

"Hmph." Horatio shook his head. "You won't be getting out for awhile Mr. Thompson."

"What, for beating up those cops? They were trying to keep me from my wife."

"Your wife is dead. She was murdered, drowned, and before that she had been beaten horribly." Horatio let all emotion drop out of his voice. "By you."

"The man is supposed to rule over his wife."

"Not beat her." Horatio wrinkled his nose as he considered the man. "You'll be staying here for quite awhile. Until you're pulled into court for assaulting those officers. And I'll be there, for Grace."

"She's dead!"

"But that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve justice." Horatio left him sitting there, silent for once. He walked back to the lab, spotting Ryan working on a laptop. He stepped up behind him, snorting when he saw what Ryan was looking at. "You're SparkNoting the poem?"

"Yeah, it was either this or go to the university and get someone to explain it to me. This just seemed quicker." Ryan said, highlighting a passage on the page. "Listen to this, 'making something beautiful out of the refuse of modern life, as a crab sustains and nourishes itself on garbage, may, in fact, be the highest form of art.' He killed them because they were refuse?"

"It's hard to get inside the mind of criminal." Horatio replied. "But that may be a reason why."

"He made art out of his own definition of garbage?" Ryan shook his head. "That's messed up." Horatio left him to his research, returning to his office. Kyle had left him a message, saying that tomorrow night was good for dinner. He forwarded it to Laila, so she wouldn't make anything for dinner tomorrow. He sat at his desk, filling out reports for the rest of the day.

* * *

"So, exactly what is going on with this guy?" Sheri asked, swirling the toothpick around her martini. They had met at some bar Sheri had found, a dark place with pulsing music that covered any conversation. "Is it serious?"

Laila contemplated her margarita for a moment before answering. "Yeah, it is."

"Is he The One?"

"I-" Laila broke off, thinking. "I hope so, I mean we haven't talked about it much. But, I love him. I love him and he loves me and we're so happy and I just want that to keep going because," She smiled dreamily. "I'm happier than I've ever been."

"Let's see, he's met your parents. Check one." Sheri ticked them off on her fingers. "He loves you. Check two. He put you under a freakin' police guard to keep you alive. Check three. If he isn't The One than I don't know who is."

"I know!" Laila groaned, pressing her hands to her face. "But I just don't know what to do!"

"Ask him!"

"But then he'll think I'm proposing! Alright, I'm a little old fashioned on that. I like the guy to propose, not the girl." Laila downed the dregs of her margarita, grimacing at the sudden taste of tequila. "But I don't know how to tell him that I want something more."

"Maybe just tell him that." Sheri mused, "You want to move your relationship to the next level."

"I'll think about it, but for now what about you? You're done with the photographer, but what about your work? Do you have eyes on anyone there?" Laila tried to direct the conversation away from herself, snaking out her tongue to lap up some of the salt on the margarita glass.

"Ugh, work. I hate that place. I'm seriously considering leaving." Sheri's eyes lit up. "We could start a company together. Build out own firm, I mean you've been doing well why can't I?"

"Well, it certainly would help. I mean this way you wouldn't have to leave work so often."

"We'd be closer." Sheri agreed. "Spend more time together. Hell, our little meetings like this could be business meetings."

"Don't they always say you shouldn't do business with friends?"

"You really believe that?"

"Not really." Laila admitted. She nodded her thanks to the bartender who had reappeared with another margarita. "So, let's say we start this up. What exactly would we do? I mean, we could both work from home."

"Meet up and discuss what we've been working on every week. And before you know it we'll have a whole floor of a building and be running the most successful firm in Miami! Wouldn't that be great? Then you and your boyfriend could have the greatest wedding ever!"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope. So are we going to do this?"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Ah, what the hell. If you're so desperate, we might as well work together." Laila raised her glass. "Welcome to LC Consulting."

* * *

"Jerome, baby are you done in Georgia yet?" AshLee breathily said into the phone. She had dressed in her best, her jewels winking in the soft light of the house she was at. Her host was taking care of her other guests, not that AshLee cared. She was here for gossip, and to be gossiped about. "I feel so lonely without you."

"Darling, it'll be another day or two. We're almost done I swear." Jerome did sound sorry, but she still pouted a little. She wanted him to be here, and she wanted him now. "And then I'll be by."

"Well, you'd better bring me something." AshLee said before assuring him of her love and rejoining the party. All of her friends from Star Island were here, including her good friend Julia Winston. Julia had sold Jerome the mansion, and she was one of her closest friends. The blonde was beautiful, well spoken, and she loved to gossip. It was always fun when Julia was around.

"AshLee! My God, it's been forever." Julia called out as AshLee stepped out into the party. "How long are you back for?"

"Oh, a few weeks. Come for the pageant, stay for Spring Break you know?" AshLee giggled slightly. She snagged a flute of champagne from a passing server, walking with Julia to look over the crowd below. "It really has been to long."

"Well, this party isn't exactly the best place to catch up on everything." Julia agreed, tilting her head back as she drained her own flute.

"How about dinner tomorrow?"

"Perfect! My son is going out so you can come over and I'll have my assistant whip up something." Julia smiled widely at that notion. _Son? Well, this is certainly new. I wonder if Maybelle would like to know about that._

"What about your husband?"

"Like I'm married yet. My old husband died only a few months ago. A girl has to have a little class."

"Is he the father?"

"No, Kyle's father is an old flame." Julia narrowed her eyes. "But he's moved on to someone else. He's coming by so he can show Kyle that he could have a new family. But he'd never go for it. He loves me to much."

"Of course, why would he want to leave you?"


	6. Chapter 6

Laila watched as Maybelle examined the new ads. Sheri had sent them over, and a copy store had been more than willing to print out her order within an hour. For now, she sat in front of the executive board of the pageant as they reviewed them. This was the one major thing she had to do for the day. Get the ads approved, then get ready to go out with Horatio. Truth be told, it was an easy day. One of the ladies smiled, her eyes wrinkling kindly. "These are lovely. Rather old Hollywood." Laila nodded her head in thanks, hiding her smile.

AshLee wasn't pleased.

"I'm just worried they won't get attention." She complained, setting them back on the table of the hotel's conference room. "Everything today had all sorts of color, and this just looks so," AshLee tried to find the word, her eyes flicking. "bland."

Laila smiled, "And that is why they will stand out. They're different. And if you really want color, we did another shoot with her in a swimsuit." Laila removed another glossy photo from her portfolio. "It's more in line with what you're asking for."

AshLee was just about to speak up when Maybelle did. The older woman ruled the pageant board with an iron fist, clad in a silk glove with a diamond ring. Laila watched her cousin sink back into her chair as the board chairwoman spoke. "Very nice. You can get these posted?"

"Of course, they'll be posted around the hotel and maybe some of the less chaotic Spring Break parties." Laila knew they'd be more than willing to pass out flyers. There were enough of those people clinging onto every party. Always looking to make a quick buck. She and Sheri would make the rounds to guys they knew, passing out the ads and tipping the guys for throwing them around the parties.

A murmur ran through the board, a muffled roar of social indignation. One woman at the end of the table stood. "You would have those horrible children come to our event?" Her outburst was met with a new hiss of whispers.

"I don't see a problem with it. You won't be serving alcohol at the pageants, and there's going to be enough security to haul away anyone who might cause trouble." Laila smiled as she watched the blood drain from the lady's face. Oh, she still thought of herself as a good person, but sometimes it was just to much fun to mess with people. She collected the papers she had passed around, tapping them back into a pile and storing them away.

Maybelle spoke again. "The pageants are in three days, can you handle all of that?"

Swinging her bag over her shoulder, Laila laughed. "I've done more in less."

* * *

Horatio hated days like this. His lab was working at full capacity, the DNA results were churning out, fingerprints were being dusted and matched. Down below, cars involved in wrecks were being taken apart and bodies examined in the morgue. It should have been a day when so much work got done that they should have solved three cases by lunch. cold cases at that.

As it was, nothing was being solved, no one being put away.

The DNA being run wasn't from the same case as the fingerprints, the cars were unrelated to the bodies in any way. Eric was at the scene of a convenience store hold up, Calleigh at a drive by, and Ryan at the beach tracking down witnesses to some stabbing. They were all out doing work, and Horatio had to sit here and gripe over how nothing was getting done in the labs.

Thank the good Lord above it was almost five.

As soon as the minute hand moved over, he grabbed his jacket and made his way to the Hummer. He could see other Hummers and squad cars arriving back form their outings, but none of them had to worry about going out to dinner with their son and their girlfriend. He drove quickly through the streets, momentarily wondering if he should use his sirens to get him through busy intersections. He dismissed the thought though, it didn't take him long to go anywhere. He pulled into the parking lot, rode the elevator up, and entered the apartment.

He could hear a hair dryer running, more than likely Laila had just stepped out of the shower. He removed his badge and gun, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator when he was finished. He sipped it as he made his way to the bathroom. Sure enough, Laila was standing in her robe, her hair almost dry as she rant he blow dryer over it again and again. She was bent over, her hair hanging around her face. He watched as her hair flew up before settling back down, and up again. She must have seen his shoes, because she turned the dryer off, flipped her hair back, and smiled.

"How was work?" She chirped, fumbling for the brush that was resting on the sink.

He watched as she dragged it through her hair, the tines tearing at any snags that had formed. It sounded painful. "Uneventful."

"For once."

He chuckled at that.

She continued, even as she went to the closet and began pulling out clothes. "Not that it's a bad thing to have an uneventful day. It gives you a chance to recover a little, not be so stressed out." She came out of the closet, a light yellow shirt and khaki shorts dangling from her hands. She flicked them to a corner, bring her fingers up to run lightly over his face. They stopped below his eyes. "Your eyes do look less puffy, Horatio."

He reached up and took her fingers in his, kissing the tips of them. "You need to get ready, and if you keep doing that, I don't think we'll pick Kyle up when we said we would."

"Feeling a little feisty tonight, huh?" Laila replied, sliding her hands around to tease the back of his neck. Her lips were by his ear, whispering to him. "Then let me get ready, we might be able to get back early."

He left her to her business, and within ten minutes she came out, hair brushed back and makeup done. Horatio had heard of women taking a long time in the bathroom, but Laila had never shown him that it was true. At least for her. He had once waited thirty minutes for Calleigh when he was giving her a ride to work. But, here she was, ready and waitng for him. He grabbed his gun and his badge before locking up the apartment, they had come in handy before when he was off duty.

Laila had insisted that they take her Mustang, and that she drive. Horatio had no issue with her driving, but his instincts did. Every time she got a little close to one car, his hands would twitch or a foot seek out an imaginary break pedal. He finally managed to rein it in as they pulled up Julia's huge house out on the islands. It was one of those houses that just had to shove its opulence in people's faces. Horatio grimaced as he looked at the Italian sports-car outside the garage, the imported light fixtures and carefully landscaped yard. It screamed money, and Horatio felt like turning away from it, but despite his revulsion he went farther towards it. He looked back for Laila, but she seemed to be stuck staring at the car in the driveway, her mouth open.

"What is it?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

She finally found her voice. "That's my cousin's car."

* * *

She should have known something was wrong when she saw the cherry red Ferrari. She should have told Horatio, parked on the curb, and had him call Kyle. But no, she just had to keep going. Sometimes she was just stupid, stupid, stupid. The last thing she needed was for AshLee to find out about Horatio, because God only knew what she would do with that kind of information. Horatio was actually in front of her now, his hand around hers. He was speaking, but she couldn't really make out what he was saying.

"I promise you, I can handle her." She finally figured out what he meant, after she pieced together the words and their meanings. He continued. "We'll only be in there for a few minutes while we pick up Kyle. You won't even have to speak."

Laila sighed, there truly was no way to get out of it. "Oh, she'll figure out a way. Let's just get it over with." It took a considerable effort not to drag her feet as she made her way up to the front door, hand in hand with Horatio. She took a little comfort in that, if Horatio was here then things would get _too _crazy. He rang the doorbell, stepping back when a Latina woman opened the door.

"Come in, she's been expecting you." The woman said, moving to let them come in. The house was just as grandiose as the front yard. Every surface was marble, covered with rugs or expensive furniture. Decorative little knickknacks occupied shelves, more often shoved aside by gold plated clocks, figurines, or picture frames. Several were of Julia and Kyle, one of Julia and who had to be her late husband, and farther back, hidden behind the others, was a smaller one. It wasn't gold, merely a cheap wooden frame that one could find at any dollar store. It had obviously been through some rough times, the frame was cracked in a couple places, the glass in need of cleaning, but behind it was a picture that made Laila want to curl up in a ball in some dark corner.

A younger Horatio had his arm around a much younger Julia, smiling into the camera. Julia was laughing or giggling at something he had said, her head buried in his shoulder. They looked happy, far too happy for her to feel comfortable. It was only for the briefest moment that she saw the picture, but she still felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. Then she looked up to see the woman herself.

Julia had dressed in a low cut top, and loose hanging shorts. Her outfit on the whole left very little to the imagination. A coy smile was on her face, her hands perfectly cocked on her hips. She could see her cousin sitting farther back, her clothes as expensive as they were fashionable. Compared to them, Laila felt like a chicken among peacocks. How could she ever think this was a good idea? She was obviously an idiot, she had to be if she was going to confront them. She should jus turn around right now, get back in her car, and leave.

Then she felt Horatio.

All it was was a simple squeeze of her hand, but it told her everything. She wouldn't have to go through this alone, he was there and he would be there for her. She smiled as a thought ran through her head.

_Careful ladies, I've got backup._

"Horatio, it's been so long." Julia breezed, obviously going in for a hug. Horatio preempted her with a hand stuck out for a handshake. She was obviously put out, but shook his hand anyway. Her eyes snapped to Laila. "And this must be Laila. Your cousin has told me so much about you. Is it true that your parents are farmers?"

Laila gulped, "Well, yes but they also bake and work on cars and trucks."

"And why aren't you back there with them?" Julia's voice had lost whatever conviviality it had once contained. "I thought all you families stuck together? Did you leave for some reason?"

Laila was searching for the right words when Horatio cut in. "That's enough. Where's Kyle?"

Julia rolled her eyes. "He'll be down in a few minutes." She looked over her shoulder, toward AshLee. "Oh, how could I have been so rude? Horatio, this is AshLee Fontaine. One of my friends."

Laila shrunk back as AshLee approached.

* * *

Horatio could tell Laila was frightened. That was easy. He just couldn't figure out why. Feeling threatened by Julia, he could understand that. He felt that way himself occasionally. But then he felt the weight on his heart that was Kyle, and leaving him alone for so long. He was working to make it a little lighter, that was what tonight was supposed to be about. He mentally shook himself, sticking out his hand again to shake.

AshLee didn't even shake, merely lightly placing her hand in his as if she expected him to kiss it.

He let her hand fall, tucking his back in a pocket. He could see her mask of perfection fracture for a second, her eyes narrow and brows furrow slightly before she resumed her perfectly calm face. That told him all he needed to know. He couldn't figure out why Laila was so intimidated by her, she had told him time and time again about how she thought she was better at everything that had to be done at the pageant. She had her easy confidence then, but now, it was like it had deserted her.

He watched as she picked at her shirt with one hand, her other hand still in his. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, a gesture of silent comfort. AshLee spoke, her voice high pitched. "You know, Laila hasn't even mentioned you at the meetings. She should have been gushing about you!"

Horatio tightened his strained smile. "Gushing? I think that's a bit much."

"I prefer to focus on work, when I'm at work." Laila finally interjected something into the conversation, but she was quiet, weak. He wanted to lean down and whisper in her ear. _Don't be like that, they feed off of it. Show them that they have nothing on you._ But he couldn't so he just squeezed her hand a little tighter. She returned the pressure.

"But you can't work all the time!" AshLee laughed. "Where's the fun in that? And even you must have some fun. Right?" He watched Laila try and respond, but AshLee rushed onward. "Oh, what am I saying? Of course you do! In fact," She turned around, made her way back to the coffee table, and came back with a newspaper section. "I saw you in the paper! Here." She shoved the paper at Laila who fumbled with it for a couple of seconds.

Horatio could see a picture of them on the front, back when they were dancing at the club. That had been an enjoyable night, full of good company, good music, and good drink. They had enjoyed themselves, and he had not thought it would come back like this. It was fairly obvious that these women were trying to shame her for something, for enjoying herself in public was his best guess.

AshLee smiled, her lips reaching back to display her perfect, white teeth. "You certainly had a good time, didn't you? And pictures? Well, that's just the cherry on top of the Sunday." Horatio moved his hand from Laila's, up to her shoulder. He heard the newspaper crunch in her hand, and she was just about to respond when Kyle came down the stairs, apologizing for being late.

"Sorry, took forever to find a shirt." He laughed, brushing off the one he was wearing. He looked to Horatio. "You ready?"

Horatio tightened his hand around Laila. "Yes, the car's out front."

And with that, he turned her away and they walked out.

* * *

**AN: You have every right to be mad at me. I neglected this story for way to long. But, life happened. I had finals in my Spring courses, a math class over the summer. I saw new movies, and watched old ones and played new games. New stories starting bouncing around my head and I just had to write them. But I still felt bad. I didn't want to leave this story that I had started. I just did. But now, I will try and be more dedicated to it, I will fit this one in with the other ones that I am writing.**

**Thank you for reading, and please review. I really hope you guys aren't to mad at me.**


	7. Chapter 7

The car ride was awkward to say the least. Miami passed by in a haze of light, thumping beats, and misty air, and all three occupants of the Mustang kept to themselves. Kyle occasionally piped up from the back seat, asking for a radio station to be changed, or pointing out some landmark or place he had been with Julia. Horatio would turn the dial, reply with interest to what Kyle said, and then go back to looking out the windshield as the city passed by. Laila broke in with her own stories about some of the places, but would inevitably return to silently driving.

Kyle was unsure exactly what had happened. He'd been more concerned with finding his shoes. Julia always picked them up and put them back in his closet, but he could never remember that. He knew his mom had a friend over, but he hadn't really cared that much. Julia had friends over all the time, and unless he really knew them, he tended to stay on the second floor, watching television, playing games, or catching up on his homework.

He had heard his Dad come in, the door swinging shut was loud enough for the whole house to hear. He just been pulling on his shoes and was just about to come down the stairs when he heard them talking. He had never heard his mother be quite so ... bitter. Like she had just seen something that made her want to puke. He had stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching the scene before him for a moment. Laila was looking unsure of herself, standing a bit behind Horatio who Kyle could tell was pissed off.

Kyle hadn't seen the look of joy that was on Julia's face before. Her friend, AshLee, wore the same look before they noticed him. As usual, the adults swept everything under the rug as soon as he appeared, making it seem as if nothing was wrong at all. He hated when they did that, it always dug at him. They didn't let him know anything, just told him what to do without any background information.

He shook the thoughts out of his head as Laila pulled into a parking spot, turning the motor off even as the wheels bumped up against the curb. As Kyle got out, he wasn't quite sure what he had expected. Someplace fancy maybe, but not this. It was small, not exactly in the most exciting area of town, and the parking lot wasn't overly crowded. Laila smirked at his skeptical expression.

"Just give it a chance Kyle, you'll love it." She stepped up the curb, her sandals slapping on the pavement.

He turned to his father. Horatio was tucking away his sunglasses, but smiled at Kyle's raised eyebrows. "She does this, but it usually turns out good in the end."

"Usually?"

Horatio chuckled a bit. "Well, there was this one time. We tried a new sushi place, and that was a wrong move." He smiled as Kyle blanched. "But it wound up being food poisoning."

That didn't inspire much confidence, but Kyle couldn't deny that he felt a little better about the whole thing when Horatio clapped him on the shoulder.

* * *

Horatio hadn't been quite sure himself of the Mexican place Laila had driven them to, but any doubt he had left when he tasted the chips and salsa laid out on the table. The chips were fresh, crunchy and lightly salted. Kyle had tried the first bite, swabbing up some of the green salsa. His face turned red, he started to sweat, and he quickly fanned himself with his menu.

So far, the dinner had gone better than the drive. They had been sat on the restaurant's patio, under a small tree threaded with lights. The stuccoed walls were painted a muted shade of yellow, brightly painted plates and pottery hanging from it. A fountain ran behind them, water laughing as it burbled and plinked down into the basin. Instrumental guitar music filtered from hidden speakers, giving the place a relaxing vibe.

Horatio enjoyed the atmosphere. It wasn't overly crowded, but you could hear the slight murmur of conversation from the other people gathered at their tables. Laila seemed to have gotten over the spat at Julia's, and was currently entertaining Kyle with some of the crazier clients she had worked for. Kyle, for his part, seemed happy. If a little sweaty. Horatio just let himself enjoy this nice, normal family moment.

He hadn't enjoyed a family outing in a long time.

Laila excused herself from the table after their orders had been taken, going towards the restrooms. Horatio waited until she had walked back inside the restaurant before turning to Kyle. He sipped his drink before asking, "So, what do you think?"

Kyle cracked a chip in half. "She's nice. Funny."

"You like her?"

"Yeah." Kyle raised his eyebrows. "Why are you asking me all this anyway?"

Horatio shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I've been thinking. We're already living together, and everything seems to be going fine." Horatio steepled his fingers, grinning behind them. "So why not propose?"

Kyle didn't move for about thirty seconds. "Seriously?"

Horatio nodded. "I'm not getting any younger, Kyle. And with my job," Again, he shrugged. "Better sooner than later."

"Have you already picked out a ring yet"

"Ah, no." Horatio felt a slight blush rise to his cheeks. "Haven't had the chance to look yet." He grabbed another chip, eating to hide his misstep. "But I wanted to see what you would say."

"Dad, it's what you want. It's your life, not mine."

"Kyle, you're a part of my life." He watched Kyle look down to his plate, hiding his face. "I wanted to know what you thought." The boy fiddled with his fork, almost jumping up from his chair when Laila sat back down.

She smiled at the both of them. "Well, what did I miss?"

* * *

Laila knew something was up, both Horatio and Kyle didn't want to meet her gaze and stared their plates before Horatio mumbled something about the Marlins and their chances for the National League pennant. She called bullshit on that, but she only did it mentally. Instead she launched them into a discussion on exactly how the Marlins would win the pennant, seeing as they were currently in last place.

Kyle defended them, claiming, "I always love an underdog."

Horatio was more or less indifferent, more focused on grabbing chips so that he wouldn't have to talk. That was when she decided something was definitely up, for there were only a few things that Horatio avoided talking about. Sex,—in front of the public at least—, his family life when he was a kid, and emotions. He only really brought up emotions when something serious was going on. Usually he was content to enjoy whatever they did together, he told her he loved her, but it wasn't as if he gave off some stunning revelation every time.

He didn't need to. She knew he loved her, she loved him and that was that. Some girls may have needed the repeated affirmations of their affections, in varying ways of success, but Laila was content with what they had. It was stable, happy. She didn't need flowers sent to her place everyday, expensive jewelry bought for her. All she needed was to know that Horatio would be there when she needed him, and she would be there for him.

_It may not be the traditional kind of romance, _she thought, _but I love it all the same._

The dinner passed happily, Kyle getting one of the more bland things from the menu. Laila had gone for spicy, enjoying the sizzle on her tongue. It felt good, to have a little sweat come out, her ears burn. It warmed her. Finally, after the last bit of food had been swiped up, they got up to leave. Just as she was seat-belting herself into the car, Horatio's phone rang.

He answered it quickly. "Horatio." Laila and Kyle both leaned in to listen to a one sided conversation.

"Really."

Pause.

"I'll be there." He shut the phone, sighing.

The car barely had a second of silence.

"Who was that, Dad?" Kyle asked, Laila could see him cock his head in the rearview mirror.

Horatio slipped his phone back into his pocket. "I need you to drop me off." He said, giving her an address. Laila was already driving when he turned back to Kyle. "They need me at a crime scene." The city slipped by, bright club lights fading as quickly as they came, replaced by the whirring red and blue of police cars. The crime scene apparently was spread out in front of a club, a line of police blocking off access to the area.

It didn't really stop people. Some were holding their cell phones up, shooting photos randomly. Others were giving off screams, some were crying, but most were pressing forward to try and see what had happened. Laila pulled the Mustang to a stop, which sent an officer scurrying over. He rapped on her window, gesturing for her to roll it down.

She obliged.

"You're going to have to move." He said, then cut himself off. Horatio was smirking slightly from the passenger seat. "Oh, sorry there Lieutenant Caine."

Laila chuckled slightly, then leaned over and gave Horatio a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have fun, I'll see you when you get home." He smiled, snorting at her farewell. Once he was gone, and his door shut she pulled away, heading back to Star Island. The bridges connecting the mainland to the island went by quickly, and luckily her cousin was gone by the time she pulled up. She unlocked the door for Kyle, watching through the rearview mirror.

"Have fun, tonight?" She asked.

"Oh, yeah. It was great." He reached for the handle. "I'll, uh, see you around sometime." After he got out, Laila sped back to her apartment. With what had gone on, there was a tub of ice cream calling her name.

* * *

Horatio didn't really know what he had been expecting. Thank God it wasn't another murder from the killer they were chasing. This was just a mugging gone wrong, but luckily the guy wasn't in any danger of dying from it. He just wouldn't be able to use his arm for three weeks. There really wasn't much for him to do. Whoever had shot the poor kid had run the second his gun went off, so until they were able to access the security camera footage that the club had, they wouldn't be able to do much. The victim had given them a description, but he was pretty shaken up so it seemed to change every time he told them.

None of his regular team was there, instead the night shift was collecting what little evidence there was. What piqued his interest though was when Frank walked over, a bit of a smile on his face. "We may have a break here, Horatio."

"Why is that, Frank?" He asked, watching as they loaded the kid into the back of an ambulance.

"People at the club were nice enough to pull up the security camera footage. Our perp's got a limp, just like our sick little artist." Frank sounded pleased. "We're getting a copy of the tape, could run a comparison and see if we get any matches, right?"

Horatio shook his head. "There's got to be hundreds of people with a limp, Frank."

"I'll put ten buck down that says it's our guy."

"Deal."

Frank was kind enough to drop him at the apartment on his way back to the station. He walked in, noticing Laila watching a movie, a bowl of half melted ice cream in her hand. She turned her head, catching his eye and smiling. "That was fast."

He shrugged, pulling off his badge and gun. "It wasn't too bad, but work ought to be interesting tomorrow." He sat down on the couch, barely paying attention to whatever she had on the television. "Did Kyle get home okay?"

"Yeah, let him off at the curb."

Horatio turned his head slightly. "Didn't want to walk him in?"

Laila hesitated a moment before answering. "I didn't want to deal with Julia again."

"I meant to ask you, why did you get all," He searched for the right word. "Flustered in there."

Laila set the bowl down, then drew her knees up to her chest and perched her chin on them. She didn't speak for a moment, but he could see her thinking. Her eyes twitched from side to side, focusing on one thing, then sliding to another. Finally, she sighed, then looked him straight in the eye.

"I always tell myself that I can take AshLee on. Physically, I know I can. I've roughhoused enough to be able to kick her around. In business? No contest, she's never done anything like that. But emotionally? Romantically?" She sighed, burying her head in her hands. "She's always had the edge."

"What do you mean?" Horatio sat up, tracing his fingers through her hair.

She snorted. "What I mean is that, she-she always was better at me than that. Always had more boyfriends, was the pride and joy of her family. She did exactly what they wanted, and they rewarded her for it. She lives the perfect, white picket fence, two point five kids kind of life. She's the pride of her family." Laila's voice dropped, barely a whisper now. "They say people like that have it all, the perfect life. I look at her, and I see what _I _could have been."

"And?"

"I never wanted it." She laughed, a single hoarse chuckle. "They tried to push it on me, and I shrugged it away."

Horatio smiled, "Maybe it was a good thing, then."

"Oh, it definitely was." Laila's voice was returning to her normal tone. "I just see her, and she pushes everything on me. Like that paper," Laila shook her head. "The only reasons 'a prim and proper lady' should be in the paper is for three events, her wedding, the birth of her child, and her death." Her eyes moved to his. "Not dancing in some club with a man. Especially a Yankee."

He couldn't help it. He laughed.

Laila did the same. "I'd tell them to go shove it, but sometimes a little emotion can wreak havoc on a girl."

"Try not to scare me like that again." Horatio moved his hand from her knee, wrapping it around her shoulders.

"I highly doubt you were scared."

"Well, concerned."


End file.
